


Flipside

by Sheena Marie (Saffiter)



Series: Flipside [1]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, accidental drug use via brownie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 11:10:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saffiter/pseuds/Sheena%20Marie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simmons and Banachek have an odd way of delegating assigments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flipside

**Author's Note:**

> Written back in 2008 and posted to ff.net.
> 
> Set not long after Sam's whole "My car is alive" moment.

They were glaring at each other. No-one was quite sure what had set the two top agents off, but there they were standing in the work room having glare off. Fellow agents tried to give the pair some space without actually leaving the room. No-one wanted to miss it if something actually happened.

Banachek would most likely side-step if you got in the way. The man was usually quite polite, amiable even. It wasn't unusual for him to enquire after your family in genuine interest. Simmons, however... well, it was quite possible that he would go for the jugular if you got in his way...or he might not. No-one was ever quite sure what was going on in the field agents mind at any given time. If _Simmons_ asked after your family you began to wonder if they'd _done_ anything recently.

Simmons grinned. Agents backed away. "So, heads I go to Keller, tails _you_ go to Keller".

"I am _not_ going to Keller". Banachek was as close to snarling as he ever got. "Politicians never take what we do well. Have you ever tried explaining NBE's to a politician before?" Simmons opened his mouth to answer, but Banachek didn't give he the chance. "No, you haven't, because I always seem to get that job. The last one actually tried to call _security_ on me!"

"Tom," Simmons raised his hands placatory manner "walk with me".

The movement was fast, belying Simmons' gangly appearance. He slung an arm around Banachek's shoulder and guided him towards one of the conference rooms...or possibly manhandled him towards it, Banachek appeared to be putting up something of a struggle.

________________________________________

He waited until the conference room door was shut before speaking. "Tom, you're good at talking to people, telling them what's going on, getting them to trust you. You have 'Trust Me' face".

Shrugging out of Simmons' arm Banachek turned, bemused. "I have a what?"

"A 'Trust Me' face," waving his arms about in odd patterns he elaborated, "a face that says to someone 'Trust me, you _wan_ t to trust me".

Banachek didn't look convinced. He gave a frustrated sigh. "People like you engender trust in others. Me, well, I'm better at antagonising, playing with people's heads, talking in circles until they don't know where I'm coming from. I don't _have_ a 'Trust Me' face".

Truth be told, he could think of nothing worse than going in and informing some politician that their perfect little view of the universe was nothing more than a delusional fairy tale. The 'You're _nuts!_ I'm calling the men in the white coats, now' look got old after about thirty seconds.

Besides, antagonising the Witwicky kid sounded like more fun! "My car just _stood up!'_ indeed! "Trust me, _this_ is _my_ 'Trust Me' face".

Ah! Was that a snort from his partner? "Reg, you just said that you don't _have_ a 'Trust Me' face, so how can that be yours?"

"Don't get cute!"

Oooooh, he was trying to glare at him. It needed some work. That wasn't exactly the scariest glare he'd ever seen. "See, that's my point. That glare, just there...yes, _that_ one! You're not scary enough". Really, it was no wonder people didn't take intimidation from Banachek as seriously as they probably should. "The last time you tried to intimidate someone it didn't work, did it? Remember?"

"Fine," Banachek conceded, "we'll flip for it".

Perfect. "Can we use my lucky coin?"

"Don't we always?" And there was about as close to 'well, DUH!' as his partner ever got. He might be a snarky bastard, but Banachek had the polite, unspoken snark-that-wasn't down to an art form.

..and a flair for the dramatic. It was just very well hidden. It was probably why he did so well with the politicians.

________________________________________

Why he'd agreed to the coin toss he really didn't know. It wasn't like he'd ever win going up against Simmons' 'lucky coin'. The man cheated, he was positive. He was also pretty positive that Simmons knew that he knew. "Fine, I'll go tell Keller that aliens are invading from Mars".

Simmons snickered. "Mars Attacks?"

"Something like that".

Simmons laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "You know you love it. It _does_ get you out of the Dam".

He really was a smug bastard sometimes, Banachek though, chuckling quietly. "Just out of curiosity, Reg, where'd you get that coin?" He wasn't going to outright accuse him of cheating. The man was happiest when playing his little games.

Besides, he'd probably just sulk at the first person who accused him of cheating. A sulking Simmons was just not natural, and rather disturbing.

The grin he got in reply was almost shark-like. "Remember when we first started working together?"

"Of course". They'd been partnered together very early on in their careers. He'd been placed with Simmons, the however-many-number-of-generations agent in the hopes that his calmer demeanour would balance out the others' more, erm, eccentric personality traits.

That they did one of the best good-cop/bad-cop routines their trainers had ever seen also played a factor in it.

"Well, it was back in the 70's. One of our first, if not our first, big mission". If it was at all possible Simmons' grin was getting bigger. "You tried to intimidate that little old lady in Roswell, remember?"

Oh.

God.

He had a sinking feeling he knew which mission his partner was talking about.

"She offered you those fresh out of the oven brownies". The smug bastard was downright gleeful. "You know, the ones that ended up being _laced_ with something?"

Please. Just shut up.

"It took me three hours to coax you down off that roof". Simmons dropped into one of the chairs, positively giddy. "I acquired the coin then".

He dropped into the chair beside his partner in a huff. He wasn't ever going to be able to live that particular mission down. Not with a partner like Simmons. "You've been using that rigged coin since then?"

"Hey, it _is_ my _lucky_ coin!"

Lucky. Yeah, right. "Only you would get away with calling a rigged coin 'lucky'".

Simmons gave the grin he was famous for. The one that made many in the Dam wonder at his mental stability. "Hey, I'm _known_ as being _eccentric_. Who'd bother confronting me about a rigged coin?"

He had a point. Still... "You'd probably just sulk at them"

" ** _OI!_** "


End file.
